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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401602">Valentine's Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723'>CubbieGirl1723</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/Marshmellow%20Bobcat'>Marshmellow Bobcat (MellowBobcat)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blind Date, F/M, Fix It Fic, Gen, Gift Fic, Movie AU, Prompt Fic, Reunion Fic, movie canon applies, no beta we die like women, valentines day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:54:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/Marshmellow%20Bobcat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica's roommate insists they go out for Valentine's Day, and inadvertently sets her up with someone all too familiar...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>VMFF Galentine's Day Gift Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Valentine's Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayyohh/gifts">ayyohh</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Galentine's, ayyohh! Nope, we didn't have you in the exchange, we just really love and appreciate you! You deserve all the fics!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No way, Alyssa,” Veronica’s voice is firm. “We are not going out on Valentine’s Day. We will not be those single and pathetic girls. ”</p><p>“You’re right, we could never be pathetic,” her roommate soothes. “We’re not looking to hook up, just go out and have fun. Haven’t you heard of Galentine’s?”</p><p>“But I just want to put on sweatpants and die.” Law school is killing her. Tonight, she feels like letting it win. Glancing at her favorite blanket on the couch, she tries to sweeten the pot. “We can order shawarma from your favorite restaurant, my treat.”</p><p>“Nope.” Alyssa puts her hands on Veronica’s shoulders, then turns her and marches her into her bedroom. “That’s what we did for New Year’s. We’re twenty-five and hot; it’s a moral imperative that we go out on the town.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“Put on that cute dress I spied in your closet the other day. The red satin one. And I’ll do your makeup for you. The smokey eye and everything.”</p><p>“You’re the worst,” she moans, falling onto her bed as her roommate slides open her closet doors and begins rummaging. How did Alyssa even spot that dress? It’s in the back of the closet for a reason. It probably doesn’t fit her anymore, and she never dry cleaned it after the beach so there might even be traces of sand after all these years. It was less of an outfit choice, more of a memory, a museum piece, proof that skiving off the yellow cotton hadn’t been a mistake. </p><p>“I’m not. You like me.” Alyssa brings Veronica’s thoughts back to the present, pulling out a pair of silver heels Veronica forgot she owns. And yeah, unfortunately that’s true and Alyssa knows it. </p><p>Bonding over a group project their first year at Columbia Law, they had been friends ever since. And normally Alyssa is a great roommate. Until she forces Veronica to leave the house when all she wants to do is watch <em> The Bachelor </em> and drink wine until she falls asleep on the couch.</p><p>“And you owe me,” Alyssa continues, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I took notes for you last week when you were sick.”</p><p>Veronica gasps. “Out of the goodness of your heart!”</p><p>“I’m calling it in. You must come with me.”</p><p>Staring into her dark brown eyes, Veronica caves. “Okay, but no dress. February in New York is freezing.” </p><p>“Psh. Way less snow than Toronto, though.” </p><p>“You and your Canadian blood. Must have been all those years spent riding your moose to school,” she teases, forcing herself up off her bed. Grabbing her new dark grey skinnies from her dresser, she scans the closet for her favorite black leather jacket. Pair it with a white tee and maybe she’ll be comfortable. “Will you do my hair, too?”</p><p>“The things I put up with, Veronica Mars.”</p><p>The pang of longing is sharp, as it always is anytime anyone, particularly her fun and flirty roommate, uses her full name. She can’t help but think of gold glittering stars torn out of the sky before their time, blood shed, lives ruined. Veronica shakes it off. She’s here, where Lilly can’t be. And she’s going out tonight. </p><p>“You like me.” She parrots Alyssa’s words from earlier, handing her friend a hair brush from the dresser.</p><p>“I must, to put up with this.”</p><p>But Alyssa smiles, and Veronica perches on the edge of her bed, giving herself over to her friend’s beauty expertise. </p>
<hr/><p>Manning their drinks, Veronica waits by the restroom sink while Alyssa takes her turn to pee. Ignoring the giggles and slurs around her, the smell of wet cigarettes and hops, she studies herself objectively in the mirror.  </p><p>She looks very...festive. Grimacing, Veronica flicks at the heart antennas bouncing above her head and adjusts the headband, giving her scalp a modicum of relief. Determined to have a good time, she’d let Alyssa play dress up but she looks like a cross between an alien and a love bug. The sparkly eyeshadow she expected, the black leather jacket was hers, and the headband she put on with minimal protest, but she never saw the red body shimmer coming. At least Alyssa was tasteful, leaving just a light shimmer over her apricot blush. </p><p>“We look great!” Exiting the stall, Alyssa twirls, showing off her black flair dress. Her bare legs make Veronica shiver, but she looks fantastic. Slugging an arm around her shoulder, she meets Veronica’s eyes in the mirror. She was right—they are young and hot. Maybe a night out isn’t her first choice, but it’s one night, and she knows Alyssa needs this.</p><p>“Will you teach me the proper poise, when I talk to boys?” Veronica enthuses for Alyssa’s amusement.  </p><p>“Yup. But let's start now, because you’ve got an awfully long way to go.” </p><p>They do their share of giggling as they drain their drinks, throwing the cheap plastic cups in the trash on their way out. </p><p>It’s hard to talk over the cacophony of revelry or in the single file formation they’re forced to use to navigate the railroad style room, so Veronica lets Alyssa pull her to the bar. She watches closely as they’re served, and follows gamely as her savvy friend steers them through the crush of bodies into the depths of Bar 1020. </p><p>Close to Columbia, the dive is dark and cramped but within walking distance of their apartment and has decent drink specials, plus nachos she’d kill for. They have a few favorite places they rotate through but this is definitely the best pick for Valentine’s. </p><p>If she has to go out tonight, at least she’s with the right girl. Alyssa has a unique talent for choosing the shortest line, the most interesting law professors, and—Veronica eases happily into a green leather booth—she can always find a place to sit, no matter how crowded the bar. </p><p>“Alright, Veronica,” Alyssa settles across from her and smirks. “Mark Wahlburg, Bradley Cooper, and Matthew McConaughey.” </p><p>“Must we?”</p><p>“We must,” Alyssa assures her, sipping at her drink. </p><p>Veronica takes a deep gulp of her own martini and peels off her jacket. The bar must be at capacity; it’s stifling. “Marry Marky Mark, fuck Matthew, kill Bradley.”</p><p>“There, you did it. That wasn’t so hard.” She lowers her voice. “Even if you’re wrong.” </p><p>At Alyssa’s cheeky grin, Veronica shakes her head. “I’ll have you know—”</p><p>“Yo, what up?” A male voice interrupts their game. </p><p>Alyssa assesses and dismisses the guy with a flip of her hair. </p><p>Veronica doesn’t bother to assess. “Not interested.”</p><p>“Aww, come on. My boy Broyden and I were just looking for some fun.” He gestures to a nondescript former frat-bro next to him. </p><p>Alyssa is kind in her untruthful response. “We have boyfriends, sorry.”</p><p>DudeBro laughs it off. “We’re good guys, honestly, we’re good guys. Third year, Columbia law. Can your guys say the same?” </p><p>“Sadly, no. They’re hit men. They kill people for money.” Veronica’s mouth turns down. “Axel <em> is </em> starting to get possessive; he’s so violent when he’s jealous.” She tilts her head, eyes wide. “Broyden and...what did you say your name was?"</p><p>“Ah, never mind.”</p><p>Broyden and Co scurry off and Veronica levels a glare at Alyssa. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>Veronica is saved from answering by a sudden splash of cold on her arm. </p><p>“You need another drink, Veronica Mars.” </p><p>She really does. Heaving a sigh, she rolls her eyes heavenward. Before she can slide back out of the booth and through the crowd, Alyssa hands her a wad of napkins from the dispenser and scurries up. </p><p>“I’ll get it. It’s only fair.”</p><p>Mopping something pink and sticky off her skin, she freezes when she feels a presence looming above her once again. Looking up she warns, “Please don’t,” but Mr. Douchebag leans in anyway. </p><p>“Well,” he quirks a lip, “here I am. What are your other two wishes?”</p><p>She levels him with a stare, keeping her features expressionless. He is undeterred. </p><p>“Aw, come on baby, smile….Just one little smile…. you're not gonna smile?</p><p>Leaning closer, her eyes latch on to his eager expression. “Fuck off.” She smiles.</p><p>“Bitch,” he accuses as he turns to leave.</p><p>“What? I smiled? I thought we were getting somewhere,” she calls to his retreating back. He picks up speed, disappearing into the crowd, and she sinks back into her seat. </p><p>It’s not that she’s uninterested in men. It’s just that no one she’s met since she’s been in New York has really caught her eye. There’s always something. Too short, too stocky. Too over protective, too aloof. Too nice, too snarky. There has to be a balance, and one one seems to have hit whatever elusive ideal she’s set for herself. It’s too bad she doesn’t like cats. Is there such a thing as a dog lady? Maybe she could—  </p><p>“Veronica.” Her roommate’s brown eyes sparkle as she tugs someone behind her through the sea of bodies. Someone tall and masculine. </p><p>Oh, god. She’s met a guy. And now Veronica is the third wheel. She wonders what “too” this one will be. Alyssa hasn’t exactly been knocking it out of the park either. Although. Veronica looks him up and down. </p><p>Blond hair, chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, and a dreamy smile, directed at Alyssa. Not to mention the crisp, tan uniform, decorated with little colorful medals. She can’t blame the girl. He’s hot, and clearly smitten. </p><p>“This is Chris. I met him at the bar.” Cheeks flushed, Alyssa scoots in the booth and ignores Veronica as she beams at the guy. <em> It’s gonna be a long night.  </em></p>
<hr/><p>An hour later, Veronica is torn between being happy for her friend and wanting to go home and get out of these stilettos. </p><p>Because while she hates feeling left out of the conversation, she has to admit, this guy seems to have found the balance her friend needs. He’s kind of perfect for Alyssa. He’s witty, smart, confessed to loving <em> The Parent Trap</em>, and is half-Jewish, to boot. She’s not surprised her roommate seems head-over-heels. </p><p>Fighting her way back from the bathroom—again, but this time solo—Alyssa’s alone in the booth. Veronica is amazed Chris left her side. </p><p>At her exaggerated wide-eyed shock, Alyssa explains. </p><p>“He went to grab refills. Closed bottles,” she adds before Veronica can comment. “Veronica, I really like him. He mentioned maybe going someplace else, a little quieter.” She bites her lip. “I really want to, but I don’t want to be an idiot, so I said no. Then he mentioned he has a friend he’s supposed to meet…”</p><p>“No. Oh, no. Get his number, but I will not—”</p><p>“Please, please, please?” she begs, hands clasped under her chin. “I will owe you forever. Take notes for you, cover extra on the rent—”</p><p>“Stop.” Veronica cuts her off. “I might trade favors but I’m not a whore.”</p><p>“Please, Veronica.” Alyssa’s eyes go wide, and Veronica gets that flash of Lilly once again. But Lilly was never so guileless. Alyssa is truly nervous, happy, and excited. Excited. What’s that like? She can hardly remember. </p><p>Veronica sighs deeply. “Here’s what I’ll agree to. DVR space for <em> The Walking Dead </em>, a pint of Cherry Garcia, and a glass of wine at wherever we go next. Which,” Veronica pats her belly, “Better have food. I’m starving.”</p><p>“Oh, oh, oh!” Jumping out of the booth, Alyssa flings herself into Veronica’s arms, practically knocking her over in her excitement. “Deal. You’re the best.”</p><p>“I will never let you forget it. What holiday is next?”</p><p>“Hmm? Why?” Alyssa locks eyes on Chris, and Veronica gets relegated once more to the periphery of her attention. </p><p>“Because we’re staying in for St. Patrick’s Day,” she mutters, grabbing her coat and pasting a smile on her face for the sake of the new guy, visions of shawarma and movie marathons dancing in her head.</p>
<hr/><p>They get out of the cab and Veronica surveys the red awning and white block letters of Red Rooster. Lit from within by red and purple neon lights, the restaurant is inviting. Patrons pour out onto the sidewalk and sit at outdoor tables, enjoying the live music from downstairs. She’s always wanted to eat here but al fresco in February? No thanks. </p><p>Chris reaches for Alyssa’s hand as they walk to the door, and Alyssa looks up through her lashes so sweetly that it’s all Veronica can do not to groan. Why had she agreed to this again? Clearly Alyssa doesn’t need training wheels. If the dopey look on Chris’ face is any indication, they're doing just fine.</p><p>Following behind them, not that they notice, Veronica steps through the doorway, and is immediately assaulted by the most delicious aromas wafting from the galley kitchen. Her body instinctively turns in that direction. </p><p>“Hold on.” Alyssa latches onto the tips of her fingers, tugging her back to the duo. Chris is scrolling through his phone with a frown of concentration. </p><p>Looking up, he grins. “He’s downstairs. “Mouth found out how to access Ginny’s Supper Club. He got here early and grabbed a table.” </p><p>“Great.” Fantastic. God knows how many hours stuck with some dumb jar head while their friends try not to suck face. Wonderful. </p><p>At least Veronica has an amazing meal in her near future. She can finally cross this place off her restaurant bucket list. Squeezing through the packed space, they twist and turn, navigating the stairs to the nightclub below. </p><p>The square tables are placed close together, forming a U-shape around the small stage. Garlands made of pink and red paper hearts hang from the low ceiling and the warm glow of the lights reflects on the dark woodwork, making the room feel cozy and warm. </p><p>“There he is!” Chris gestures to a table for four, the back of another tan uniform visible. Her mind gives a latent hum of appreciation for the broad shoulders, but as her eyes drift up her breath leaves her body, and she freezes. </p><p>Above the shoulders, under the rigid line of the crew cut, is a span of flesh she’d know anywhere. A neck that she might dub too long, too giraffe-like, but fits the flat of her hand perfectly as she draws him down to her. Framing his head, a set of ears she might call large, too wide, until he’s deep sea diving and she’s holding on for dear life. She can’t see his hands, but she swears she can feel his fingers digging into her hips. </p><p>Logan Echolls. She doesn’t bother telling herself that it couldn’t be, that she’s seeing things, that it can’t possibly be him, in her town, wearing a uniform. She knows, with the certainty of death, taxes, and the fact that she’s never going to get this red glitter off her face. Logan Echolls is sitting two feet in front of her. </p><p>Is his smile still crooked and slightly self-deprecating? Does he still duck his head when he’s embarrassed? Will he still look at her like she’s the answer to a question she’s terrified of knowing?</p><p>“Veronica?” Alyssa’s concerned voice snaps Veronica from her revery. When she swings around to meet Alyssa’s eyes, her friend must read something in them because she starts to babble. “It’s okay, we can go. I just thought… it’s fine, we can go, have shawarma on the couch. I’ll call him tomorrow.” </p><p>By the time Alyssa winds down there’s resolve in her voice, but disappointment in her features, and Veronica feels like a slug. Alyssa’s selfless, steadfast support is somehow worse than Lilly’s pouting lip and pleading eyes. </p><p>Squaring her shoulders, Veronica holds her head high. “We’re good.”</p><p>Alyssa throws her an uncertain glance, but takes the win, pulling them to the table. <em> Deep breaths, Veronica. </em> She makes it around the table. <em> Passing out would be embarrassing.  </em></p><p>She can tell the minute he realizes, the minute her elbow crosses his eyeline. He goes still as stone, drink suspended halfway to his lips, face frozen mid-laugh. Their gazes collide, catch hold as Alyssa takes her seat and pushes Veronica in hers. They stay, stares locked for an immeasurable amount of time. </p><p>Chris clears his throat, but no one moves. </p><p>“Um,” Alyssa swallows, flicking her eyes to Veronica again, then back to Logan. “You must be Mouth. I’m Alyssa, and this is my friend—” </p><p>Logan finds his voice. “Veronica Mars.” He takes a long sip of whiskey and places it on the table with a soft thunk. His lip quirks. “Nice outfit.” </p><p>“That’s her?” Chris asks at the same time Alyssa frowns, “You know her?”</p><p>“Hi, Logan,” Veronica replies weakly. </p><p>Alyssa gasps. “Logan? Like, <em> Logan </em> Logan?” </p><p>Everyone looks around again, a wealth of unspoken information laid bare on the table. The night just got longer.</p>
<hr/><p>“So, what’s new with you?” Veronica finally speaks into the awkward silence. Chris and Alyssa continue to stare back and forth between them, eyes darting in shared panic.</p><p>But Logan tosses back the rest of his drink and exhales.</p><p>“All the gin joints in all the world.”</p><p>“Yep.” She can’t help the smile that cracks her face. It’s been six years since she’s heard a quip from Logan Echolls and her belly gives a low flip. Ignoring it, she gestures at his uniform. “Is that a tearaway?”</p><p>Barking a laugh, he runs a hand over his too-short hair and smiles. “That’d be more believable than the truth, I suppose. I joined the Navy.”</p><p>“On purpose? Not, like, while drunk or on a dare?”</p><p>“Veronica,” Alyssa hisses at her, but she shrugs. </p><p>“Logan knows I’m not nice. I don’t have to worry about making a good impression on him.”</p><p>His crooked grin spreads across his face and Veronica’s cheeks warm at the sight. His features are leaner, the baby fat gone, but when he smiles, he still looks like he’s seventeen. The familiarity of it hits her in the sternum.</p><p>“It’s good to know some things never change. What have you been up to, Veronica?”</p><p>“Would you believe, law school?”</p><p>“Gotta know the rules if you’re gonna break ‘em.” </p><p>“Logan,” Chris hisses. </p><p>“Don’t worry,” Logan doesn’t take his eyes from hers, “she knows I’m not nice either.” He lifts his fresh glass of whiskey—she barely even noticed the waiter—to her in a mini toast. </p><p>“I, uh, don’t really do that anymore.” She ignores his eyebrow raise. “I did four years at Stanford, now Columbia. Alyssa is my roommate.” She sends her friend a small smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand and let her know she’s okay. Clearing her throat, she waves at his uniform and takes a sip of her wine. “I really feel like this is the better story, though.”</p><p>“Prepare to be disappointed in me once again, Veronica.” He chuckles, but it sounds forced. Velvet over razorblades. “I needed some discipline. And you should be able to understand the appeal of getting out of Neptune.”</p><p>There’s a story there, something dark behind his eyes she can’t quite….but whatever this is, this twist of fate, this chance meeting, it’s fragile, delicate, and she’d like to think that in the last six years she’s at least learned a little restraint, learned when to pull back. Swallowing the anxiety that bubbles up in her throat, she puts her hand on his arm. </p><p><em> You’re not a disappointment</em>, she wants to say but can’t. Instead, she clears her throat. </p><p>“Logan. About that. I should have called, should have kept in touch. I—” her voice cracks with emotion, “I needed a fresh start.”</p><p>“I won’t say it wasn’t hard. But, bygones, Veronica. It’s good to see you now.” His intense gaze still sends tendrils of heat coiling through her belly along with relief. Ask, not interrogate, she reminds herself. Restraint.  </p><p>“So what do you do in the Navy?”</p><p>“Fighter pilot, baby.” Whipping a pair of aviators out of his front pocket, he puts them on with a proud smirk, even though the restaurant is dim and it’s evening. </p><p><em> Of course he is. </em>One of the sexiest occupations known to man. That’s probably why he picked it. She shouldn’t be surprised. </p><p>As Logan explains the process of officer training, flight school, and carrier landing, Veronica learns more than she ever thought possible about jet planes. Logan is different...steadier than she remembers, but still cocky, witty, and handsome as hell. This version of him—a combination of the boy she used to know and a responsible adult—is intriguing. A puzzle to solve. In time. She settles in for the long haul. </p><p>Alyssa stops shooting her concerned looks every five seconds, but in the conversational lull after they order dinner, she says, “Veronica, will you join me in the ladies room, please?”</p><p>She’s tempted to decline because she knows what’s coming, but being rude to her friend doesn’t get her anywhere. Sighing, she stands and crumples her napkin, leaving it on her chair. </p><p>“Sure.” Tossing Logan a rueful look, Veronica turns and follows Alyssa as she winds through the restaurant, dodging low-hanging heart decorations. When they reach the bathroom, her roommate spins, whipping around to face her.</p><p>“So! Tell me everything.”</p><p>“Uh, Alyssa,” Veronica backs up against the counter, trying to put space between herself and the crazy woman. “You were there the whole time. What’s to tell?”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. It’s <em> Logan</em>.” </p><p>“Yes. Glad you listened during introductions."</p><p>But Alyssa waves off her sarcasm. “Is it okay? How do you feel about seeing him?”</p><p>Veronica shrugs, skin prickling with the awkwardness of discussing her feelings at all, let alone in a public restroom. But she knows from experience, Alyssa won’t stop pestering her until she gives her something.</p><p>“It’s good? Weird? I don’t know.”</p><p>Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Veronica, so help me God, I will drag you to a karaoke bar and sign you up to sing <em> American Pie </em> and <em> Bohemian Rhapsody </em> right now if you don’t—” </p><p>“Fine, fine. It’s…” Holding up a hand to ward off Alyssa’s threats, she tries to put her emotions into words. “It’s surreal. He’s the last person I expected to run into tonight. I’ve thought about him, sure, wondered what he was doing, but not like constantly or something. And now he’s <em> here </em>. Logan was one of the people who knows me best in the entire world but...there are all these things that have happened…”</p><p>She trails off, then clears her throat. “It’s like we fall right back into our old rhythms, and I can’t decide if that’s good or bad.”</p><p>Fishing in her clutch, Alyssa brandishes her lipstick and faces the mirror, doing a touch-up. Her words come out muffled, speaking with her mouth open in a wide circle. </p><p>“How do you want the night to end?”</p><p>“What do you mean? What kind of question is that?” Veronica sputters, and Alyssa lays a calming hand on her arm.</p><p>“V, I’m not asking if you want to sleep with him, although no judgment if you do. I very much see the appeal.” Punctuating this with an eyebrow bob, Alyssa grabs her chin and starts applying lipstick to Veronica now. “All I’m saying is, in your mind, how is the ideal way this night could end?”</p><p>Parting her lips for Alyssa, Veronica ponders her question.</p><p>“I think...I think I’d like to be his friend. Get his number, and see where things go. Maybe some of the things that drove us apart…” She presses her lips together with a pop. “Well, maybe it’s worth it to get to know this new and improved version of Logan Echolls.”</p><p>Putting her lipstick back in her purse, Alyssa links her arm through Veronica’s. “Let’s go make it happen.”</p>
<hr/><p>“What’s your favorite Dick up to these days?” Veronica asks, sliding back into her chair. </p><p>Chris coughs and Alyssa gives a nervous giggle but Veronica waves them off. </p><p>“Neptune High acquaintance. Get your mind out of the gutter.” </p><p>Logan smirks at her, clearly enjoying the miscommunication. </p><p>“Casablancas? Hasn’t changed a bit. But I haven’t seen him in a while,” Logan continues, taking a bite of his ribs. “We’re stationed in Norfolk; I don’t get back to California very often.”</p><p>“Virginia?” For some reason, Logan living outside of California is harder for her to imagine than him being a pilot in the Navy. Something about his identity in her mind is tied to the sand and surf, and it throws her. But he nods. </p><p>“Yeah, our squadron is based there when we’re not deployed.” </p><p>The Navy jargon goes over her head and she tries to grasp onto anything familiar.</p><p>“Deployed? Like...at sea?”</p><p>“Yep. I’ve done two deployments already and now I’m on shore duty. Chris, here,” he jerks his thumb at his buddy, “convinced me we should come up for the weekend. He wants to see <em> Wicked </em>.” </p><p>He adds the last bit in a confidential whisper and she has to laugh. This guy really could be perfect for Alyssa. </p><p>“And here I thought you were just dancing through life.” </p><p>Logan laughs, then proceeds to regale her with stories of deployments and some of the odd characters he’s met in the Navy. It’s not really on par with the horror stories they could tell about growing up in Neptune, but it’s refreshing. Maybe they both ran away from home and found what they needed. </p><p>Lingering over drinks and their meal, Chris and Logan only fight over the check after the waiter starts sending them pointed looks. The restaurant is still bustling even though it’s late, but it is the city that never sleeps, after all.</p><p>“I think,” Chris glances around the crowded restaurant, regret lacing his features, “we should probably give them the table back.” </p><p>Alyssa’s face falls at his words, and Veronica grabs her hand and squeezes.</p><p>“Get his number,” she mouths at her friend. Alyssa nods and seems to take strength from having a plan. </p><p>As they push back from the table, Veronica falls in step with Logan to give Alyssa a moment with Chris. </p><p>“So how long are you in New York?” She grimaces as the words come out of her mouth. Did that sound desperate? </p><p>“We fly back to Virginia tomorrow.” She feels the weight of Logan’s gaze as he levels it on her. </p><p>The path through the crowd narrows and they have to walk single file but Logan’s hand warms the small of her back, anchoring her. She didn’t realize that she had missed it there until this very moment but it feels right. Not too big, not too small. Just right. Her skin is cold, bereft, when they move outside and he steps away. </p><p>Veronica stomps her feet to stay warm against the biting wind, but she isn’t ready to leave yet. Shoving her hands deep in her pockets, she clenches her teeth together to keep them from chattering. </p><p>Chris wraps Alyssa in his arms, resting his forehead against hers, and they seem to be heating up in all the right ways. Veronica glances at Logan, carefully not watching their friends. </p><p>“This was fun,” she says at the same time he murmurs, “It was good to see you,” and the awkwardness hangs in the space between them again. </p><p>“So.” Logan clears his throat. “You think maybe we should keep in touch? As the East coast contingent of Neptune survivors?”</p><p>His eyes are soft as he holds out his hand. For a second she almost gives in to muscle memory and laces her fingers through his before she realizes what he’s asking. </p><p>Nodding, she unlocks her phone and slaps it into his palm. “Put your new information in there.”</p><p>“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day when you’d just give me access to everything in your phone, Veronica. Think of all the secrets. You’ve changed.” He starts to input his number. Suddenly the corners of his mouth stretch into an outright delighted grin. Looking up, he holds out the phone to her. “I’m already in here.” </p><p>Her heart stutters. In surprise? In embarrassment? At the grin? She’s not sure, but she feels her face heat. “It transferred over. Automatically. I figured you had changed it.” She tries to snach the phone back, but he holds it out of reach.</p><p>“Uh-uh.” He holds the phone over her head and does a quick scroll. It takes everything in her not to jump for it. “Dick’s not in here anymore. Or,” his face lights up again, “Piz.” </p><p>Face on fire, she resorts to, “Shut up, Logan.” </p><p>“There’s that famous wit.” His gaze turns solemn. “You’re still in mine, too.” He taps his lapel pocket, but she doesn’t think he’s talking about his phone. </p><p>“Veronica!” Alyssa's voice cuts through. Glancing over, her friend holds a cab door open and taps her toe pointedly. </p><p>“One second!” she calls back. “Just saying bye.”</p><p>“Come’ere.” Logan hauls her unceremoniously to his chest, but it doesn't feel like goodbye. It feels like a promise. </p><p>“This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” she murmurs into Logan’s chest. </p><p>“Beginning?” He pulls away and gives her an exaggerated incredulous look. “What do you call middle school?”</p><p>Veronica laughs, feeling lighter than she has in a long time. “Okay, a second beginning.”</p><p>“I‘d like that, Mars.” Logan kisses her on the forehead, stirring up a flurry of memories, and gazes down at her. </p><p>Forcing herself to step out of the circle of his arms towards Alyssa and the waiting cab, she turns back one last time. “This is not goodbye. This is—see you soon.”</p><p>“See you soon,” he echoes, with a little finger wave. </p><p>Squishing together in the cab, Veronica and Alyssa both watch the men on the street until they disappear, swallowed up by buildings and distance. </p><p>“Well. I guess maybe this wasn’t your worst idea,” she confesses to Alyssa, slouching against her friend. </p><p>“Remember my genius next time, okay?” Alyssa’s voice turns sly. “So Veronica, I hear they have a great St. Patrick’s Day parade down in Norfolk.” </p><p>“Is that so?” Veronica responds casually. Their eyes meet, a beat of silence follows. Veronica cracks first, a mischievous look spreading across her face. “Road trip?” </p><p>“I thought you wanted to stay in?” Alyssa raises an exaggerated brow and feigns shock. </p><p>Bumping her shoulder, Veronica grins. “Shawarma’s overrated.” </p>
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